


The Accidental Spellcaster

by feliciacraft



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Episode: s04e17 Superstar, Gen, Star Wars References, episode rewrite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 12:02:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10830888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feliciacraft/pseuds/feliciacraft
Summary: Rewrite of the scene from BtVS episode 4x17 "Superstar". With a simple incantation, Xander sets Giles's book on fire. Here, the rest of the scene goes a little differently.





	The Accidental Spellcaster

**Author's Note:**

> With gratitude to the fantastic All4Spike for betaing! Any remaining errors are due to my incessant tinkering afterwards.

Too late, Xander slammed the book shut, extinguishing the flames that’d burst into existence upon his incantation. Judging by the acrid smell rising from the book before him, however, the damage had been done. Uh-oh.

“Good Lord!” Giles rushed forward and rescued the ancient text from his hands, tossing his glasses on the coffee table to bury his nose in the damaged spread for a very close inspection. With a steady index finger, Giles lightly traced what looked like a charred outline. The word “caress” came to mind. Wishing really hard for the superpower of invisibility (or at least the freedom to sink deep under the couch cushions like spare change), Xander suppressed a cough even though the burnt smell tickled his throat.

“Look, Giles, I’m really sor—”

“Xander, would you like to learn magic?”

“I— what?”

Giles carefully placed the open book in front of Xander. The Scoobies all rushed forward to see; Willow’s head bumped into his in the scramble. Xander rubbed the sore spot on the side of his head and stared. The line he’d been reading could no longer be found. In its place was a burn mark. In the shape of a perfect, brown-tinged circle. Woah. He looked up at Giles. “I barbecue your property and you aren’t mad?”

Giles looked indignant. “As Willow was saying, casting a spell is no child’s play. It’s the manifestation of one’s will imposed upon reality, requiring the spellcaster to be attuned to the energy of the universe in order to channel it to one’s advantage. Put plainly, it requires a strong mind and a certain talent.” Giles returned his glasses to perch on top of his nose, his eyes wide behind the spectacles. “A talent, apparently, that you have been blessed with.”

As Xander absorbed this — and judging by the silence, as did everyone — Giles continued, “Rigorous training under proper guidance is necessary in order to nurture a favorable disposition into a skill, allowing it to develop and grow and bloom. Magical talent is no different. As such, I’ve recently started giving Willow private lessons on magic. Perhaps…you’d like to join us?”

“Learn magic…” Xander could barely believe his ears, or contain his excitement. “Talent” was not exactly a word people usually used in a sentence about him; his known strengths involved shifting heavy construction material from one place to another, and banging things with a hammer. But hey, why wouldn’t he have a softer, more nuanced, earthier type of talent? After all, his best friends counted one Slayer and one witch, both kick-ass chicks.

Speaking of which (which witch, ha!), Willow was beaming at him like a toothpaste commercial, Anya was mouthing, “Say yes!” to him with newfound respect in her eyes, and Riley, his brows knit tight in concentration, was sniffing the burned page, apparently suspecting a trick. The guy was nice, but man, sometimes he could be such a cornbread of little faith. Xander would show him.

A shaky laugh escaped him before any coherent words did. “Sure, why not? I’m ready to bloom!” He beamed back at Willow and linked the space between them with a back-and-forth wave. “Whaddya know, Willow, looks like we’ll be lab partners again. I’m a witch, too!”

“Erm, technically…” Giles pushed his glasses higher, took a sharp inhale, and seemed ready to launch into a lecture. And he might’ve, but Anya was crawling over the coffee table, shouting at Xander, “Good for you!”, and Willow was high-fiving him. Then Willow was gone, shoved aside by Anya so that she could climb on him for an enthusiastic, congratulatory kiss, and Xander didn’t really catch the rest of Giles’s sentence.

Would Giles object to physical contact? Xander got to his feet, gently unclasped Anya’s arms from around his neck and — skipping over Riley, who had moved onto testing the book’s binding with gentle but insistent pulls of the toasted page — enveloped Giles in a bear hug. Proximity ensured that at least some of Giles’s words reached his ear, “...start with the history of magic which, incidentally, covers all the requisite terminology right in the Introduction.”

“Yes, Master Giles, whatever you say.” A light pat on his back reminded Xander to let go of Giles. He complied, took a step back, and suddenly didn’t know where to put his hands. Sensing his discomfort, Willow dragged Anya back to the research table.

Throughout high school he’d always been a middling student. Armed with the perfect excuse that he wouldn’t be able to afford a higher education anyway, even if a college would have him, he’d generally made a half-hearted effort but not bothered to do his best. Now he wondered if all along, he’d just needed someone to believe in him. He swallowed hard around the lump in his throat.

“I won’t disappoint you, Master Giles. I’ll be the best Padawan you’ve ever had!” Then, remembering Willow, he amended, “Well, I’ll try at least.”

He fully expected one of Giles’s trademark puzzled look any time American pop culture slipped into the conversation, so he was stunned when Giles replied, “Ah, Xander. Do. Or do not. There is no try.”

“Wha… But you…”

Giles let out a chuckle. “What, you think I haven’t picked up a thing or two, with you in my life for the last four years? We start our lesson tomorrow. Seven o’clock sharp. Don’t be late.”

“Got it.” He sat down and picked up the next book, unable to stop grinning. He had a very good feeling about this.

(End)


End file.
